


Hotel California

by skywriter45



Category: Smosh
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, Songfic, no shourtney shizzle, other smosh members (mentioned), references to the Shining movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywriter45/pseuds/skywriter45
Summary: Inspired by/title from the Eagles song of the same name.Damien heads out on a road trip after a breakup, and comes across the mysterious Hotel California...but all is not what it seems.
Relationships: Damien Haas/Shayne Topp
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Hotel California

On a dark desert highway  
Cool wind in my hair  
Warm smell of colitas  
Rising up through the air

The sun was long gone, but Damien could still feel the burn of his skin. He had been driving for hours now, maybe days, without a goal, or an end in sight. The thoughts came rushing through his head over and over again, wondering how he could have been so stupid. How was it possible to make the same mistake over and over again? Was this truly the definition of insanity?

Up ahead in the distance  
I saw a shimmering light  
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim  
I had to stop for the night

It was gone midnight now. Hell, it was gone two-thirty. The rage that had been fueling him had slowed to a simmer, and exhaustion had taken its place. His phone had died hours ago, leaving no opportunity to Google a place to stay, and it didn't seem there was any such thing for a long time. He pondered sleeping in his car, but he had no form of protection, and the desert was unforgiving. Better to keep going and hope to find a roof to stay under. 

There she stood in the doorway  
I heard the mission bell  
And I was thinking to myself  
"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell"

There was a glowing neon sign up ahead, standing out against the scorched earth like his own personal Jesus. It advertised a "Hotel California, turn right here." Damien wasn't prone to taking advice from something that looked like it had been stolen from a Vegas casino, but he had no other choice. Pulling right, a crumbling Spanish mission came into view, looking like it hadn't been inhabited since the days it was built, except for a few flickering lights. His clunker of a car pulled up into the parking lot with an audible crunch, noticing that despite the lit up rooms, there were no other cars. 

Then she lit up a candle  
And she showed me the way  
There were voices down the corridor  
I thought I heard them say

The lone woman at the front desk was nice enough, wearing a name tag that displayed the name "Courtney." They made small talk as she checked him in and led him to his room--237. There was sound that echoed from the other rooms; laughter, anger, and what sounded like sobbing. When Damien asked Courtney about it, she simply smiled and told him, "That's funny. You're our only guest here tonight." 

"Welcome to the Hotel California  
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)  
Such a lovely face  
Plenty of room at the Hotel California  
Any time of year (Any time of year)  
You can find it here"

The next morning at breakfast, when Courtney asked what brought such a handsome young man as himself here, he simply gave a curt smile and told her it was an impromptu road trip. He was really only half lying.  
The hotel was nice, stark, but vaguely reminiscent of something he had seen in a movie once, although he couldn't place it. He moved to turn on his phone. No service. 

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted  
She got the Mercedes Benz  
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys  
She calls friends

It was his fault, she had claimed. If he hadn't worked such long hours, she never would have found time to see all those other men, in their own bed. She never would have been able to take his name off the lease. She never would have been able to turn her back on him, to change the locks.  
He had been working to get her a ring.

How they dance in the courtyard  
Sweet summer sweat  
Some dance to remember  
Some dance to forget

Damien first spotted him three days in. Still no other guests, but the employees had begun making appearances, and were having a garden party. He saw the man, golden hair and strong muscle, dancing with a housekeeper. They locked eyes, startling blue against wide green. As soon as he had looked, the man glanced away, breaking the contact, pretending nothing had happened. Damien stood, frozen in place, feeling as though he had just been struck by lightning. 

So I called up the Captain  
"Please bring me my wine"  
He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969"

Somewhere around midnight, (he couldn't be sure anymore,) a knock on Damien's door aroused him. He, the golden man, stood at the door with a bottle of wine. "Bottle service," he proclaimed, his voice setting Damien on fire. He opened his mouth to explain that he didn't order bottle service, only to be pushed against the door and claimed. He kissed back eagerly, and the bottle silently fell to the floor, forgotten. 

They living it up at the Hotel California  
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)  
Bring your alibis"

Damien no longer had any way to tracking how long he'd been there, only knowing time by how he spent it with the golden man, between each other's legs or simply in bed, listening to the silence.  
They never learned each other's names. 

Mirrors on the ceiling  
The pink champagne on ice  
And she said: "We are all just prisoners here  
Of our own device"

The only person he spoke to was Courtney. She stood at the front desk night and day, as if expecting someone to come and rouse her from this purgatory. When Damien asked her, she smiled and said, "Nobody ever comes here. You're the first in years."  
This unnerved Damien to no end. Reality was blurred in this place; there was no night or day. Things would appear and disappear at random. He brushed it off as staff moving things around, but deep down, he knew it was much more than it seemed. 

And in the master's chambers  
They gathered for the feast  
They stab it with their steely knives  
But they just can't kill the beast

Damien was the one to break the silence, the golden man resting his head on the other's chest. "I think I'm going to have to go soon. It's been God knows how long since I've spoken to anyone. They should know I'm not dead."  
The golden man turned over, looking him in the eye. "Okay."  
"Okay?" Damien asked, surprised. He had been expecting a little more resistance.  
"Okay." His partner replied, "But...just stay one more night. We'll have a big going away party. You're the best guest we've had in years."  
Damien smiled and brought his lips back to his partner's. "I'm the only guest you've had in years."

The staff had come slinking out of the shadows for the party, although they refused to share their names. There was clear camaraderie, love even, but more than once he saw a distinct sadness, although the moment they noticed him watching them, it disappeared. The golden man held onto him all night, as if he were a lifeline. As if he would never let him go. 

Last thing I remember, I was  
Running for the door  
I had to find the passage back  
To the place I was before

The sun rose on the Hotel California as Damien prepared to walk out. His bag was packed, ready to be thrown into the trunk of his tiny, shitty car, the last thing he had left. As he took a step over the threshold, a hand closed around his wrist. The golden man held him back, staring with a look of pure love and adoration. Damien was sure the look on his on face was similar. The man took a step closer, so his breath should have been ghosting over Damien's face, but he was shocked to discover it wasn't. In fact, it never had. He spoke softly, the wind through the desert sand was louder; "My name is Shayne."  
Damien stroked his thumb over the other's skin: cold skin, dead skin. "Shayne." He leaned in for a final kiss, sweet as the sunrise, but with a familiar taste of poison. "Shayne" he whispered to himself, slipping into darkness, giving in to oblivion. 

"Relax," said the night man  
"We are programmed to receive  
You can check out any time you like  
But you can never leave!"

The car had obviously been there for months, covered in sand and ash and now a dusting of desert snow. It was hardly a car anymore, so Sheriff Raub wasn't shocked that no one had noticed it, or its inhabitant, for so long. After all, this particular stretch of road was practically deserted. The man, or skeleton as he was now, had been the first in years. Damien Haas, 29, according to his sun bleached ID. No family available, and his last contact, his ex girlfriend, had wanted nothing to do with him. Sheriff Raub felt bad for the poor bastard; all alone in the desert for months, picked dry by the vultures and night creatures, until he was a bag of bones sitting in a rusted old clunker. The sheriff hoped he had ended up somewhere nice in the afterlife, maybe somewhere with a garden. Gardens were nice.  
Curiously enough though, when they had found the guy, the radio had still been playing. He supposed it must have been haunted or something, staying alive this long. It skipped and repeated, but only the same song. Presumably the last song that had been playing. 

"Welcome to the Hotel California  
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)  
Such a lovely face  
Plenty of room at the Hotel California  
Any time of year (Any time of year)  
You can find it here"

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in over five years, so I apologize if I'm a little rusty. :) Thank you so much for reading, it really means the world to me, and comments and kudos are my lifeblood! <3


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